The Boy Who Loved Me
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: A collection of SS/HP oneshots. Takes place long after the war, established relationship, various lengths and genres.
1. The Hero and the Villain

**The Boy Who Loved Me**

_A collection of Snarry one shots, dedicated to my best friend and written well after the war has finished. I will update with anything I write. _

* * *

**December 1st:**

He crept down the corridor, clutching his wand tightly in one hand, eyes examining every shadow, footsteps soft on the stone. He had long since abandoned his shoes and was now in his socks, which helped to disguise his presence. He edged closer toward the stairs, listening to any sound that was not the creaking of the ancient castle, nor the portraits stirring in their sleep, nor a poltergeist causing problems on an upper floor. Darkness had fallen hours before and he imagined that dawn would creep onto the horizon soon - he was running out of time, and running out of chances. He was so sure that he would find what he was seeking on this floor - something about the sixth floor of the castle had called to him, whispered his name in a voice he knew too well. He would finish this, he would end it. It always started and ended with him - and now - the final act was near.

He stopped. Something wasn't right. A trickle of sweat down his back and a shiver down his spine. Gut instinct; warning; well honed after so many years. Something…wasn't…right. He turned where he stood, to face the other way, when he thought he felt a breath on his neck. But there was nothing to see - he was still alone - absolutely alone -

"Give me one very good reason why I should not kill you where you stand, Potter." A wand pressed into his back.

Harry tensed. Every muscle coiled, ready to spring, his heartbeat thundering in his chest - the voice was behind him - he had _turned his back_ and there was the voice. That voice. His voice. He forced his syllables to be stable and calm, almost light, as he replied, "I do not think you want to kill me, Snape."

Instant response - "Oh, really? And why might you have reached such a conclusion?"

"Because…" Harry made sure he was ready - that nothing would let him down - he had to be ready - "If you wanted to kill me - you'd have done so on the fourth floor -" He whirled to face his enemy and found himself with the wand beneath his chin, his own weapon disarmed, and one dark eyebrow raised in a smug expression of triumph. All in one breath. His green eyes locked onto the dark gaze of Severus Snape, who took a moment before answering, "Indeed. I could have done."

"But you let me escape." Harry nodded, trying to show no fear or discontentment at the position he now found himself in, "That suggests, and it is not too greater a leap in logic, you have other plans for me, besides death. Is that a good enough reason?"

Still one eyebrow raised, "With logic like that, I am surprised you are not in another career, Potter."

That was no answer, and Severus knew it. Harry stayed as polite as he could, "Am I right?"

"Perhaps." Severus trailed the wand down so it rested against Harry's heart, after making a path down his throat in a deliberate display of power, and Harry's own vulnerability and mortality. He fought not to swallow. The smirk told him he failed. "Scared, Potter?"

Harry laughed. "Of you? You, who has been trying to capture me alive for five years, and has failed consistently? Forgive me, Snape, but fear is not something I associate with you."

Severus seemed to be finding this display rather amusing. "You will learn."

"Will I? I seem to remember you said I was a slow learner." Harry leaned forward, "In some areas."

Ah. A flush. He had caused a slight blush to suffuse those shadowed cheeks - even if Severus chose to kill him now - that was a victory to Harry. And Severus knew it. The hand around his wand tightened. "I do not remember using those exact words."

Harry ignored the wand and brought one hand up with carefully considered intentions. He rested it on Severus' arm and pressed a little closer to his captor, "You also told me that the line between hate and obsession was very thin. That it was faint, when drawn in the sand. Hate and obsession. I choose a different word. Hate and infatuation. Which side are you on, Severus?" He felt Severus' breath catch - practically heard it behind those pale lips - and there was a flicker of hesitation. "Hate…or infatuation?"

His whispered words had some impact on Severus - the other pushed Harry back against the nearest wall, wand by his side, so there was very little distance between them. His dark eyes were alive with something impure and unholy and Harry knew something similar was reflected in his own - the proximity was practically unbearable - why did this man carry such attraction, all that he was, all the potential he had - tainted and handsome and so terribly devastating - he curled his fingers around Severus' right wrist as the other finally chose to speak. "Be careful which game you choose to play, Potter."

"Game?" Harry repeated, tone higher pitched. "Who said this was a game?"

"You do not know how to play."

"You lowered your wand." He tugged Severus' wand from unsuspecting fingers and wrapped arms around his enemy in a crude mockery of a lover's embrace, wand at Severus' spine. The other snarled and tried to pull back. Harry held him fast. "I know how to play. You."

So, here they were. Hero and villain entwined in a dark, deserted corridor. Harry liked the taste of triumph as he watched Severus attempt to re-evaluate the situation and his next route. "What would you like to do now, Snape?"

"I believe you are in charge now, Potter. What other tricks do you have hidden away?" Those words did not sound genuine. Harry smirked, "You are a bad loser, Severus. As it so happens, I do have some tricks left."

"Really." Severus did not sound too surprised about this.

"Yes." He uttered a word under his breath and Severus' dark shirt disappeared, leaving only pale, bare and terribly soft skin behind. Goosebumps arose in the sudden cold as Severus inspected his new predicament and seemed disappointed, "I've seen this before."

Harry grinned, "I'm willing to bet on that." He traced fingertips down the left side of Severus' chest, pausing over his heart to measure the thudding pulse, knowing it to be quicker than normal and matching his own, "I think…" He softened his voice so it was nothing more than a murmur, "You are hiding from me."

"I'm a villain. Hiding is part of my repertoire, Potter." Severus' gaze moved from Harry's fingers to his eyes. "Hiding in the shadows."

"Watching me."

"Watching you." Severus conceded.

"Would you like to know what side of the line I am on?" Harry asked after a charged moment of sexual tension that was beginning to burn his very soul. "Hate or infatuation?" He leaned up so their lips were practically touching, so that when he spoke again, they brushed together in what could have been a kiss, it all depended on what Severus chose to do, "Infatuation."

He felt it. The metaphor became literal when he felt Severus' heart leap beneath his fingertips with a jolt of a beat and Harry found his lips claimed in a kiss that carried more hunger and want than he had been expecting - but that did not mean he was unable to respond in kind. If he was willing to surrender all control, he would have melted against Severus and let the other devour him - but that was too far and he did not trust the other's intentions, no matter how genuinely breath taking his kiss was - and when they parted, he felt the cold chill of disappointment in his chest.

Severus licked his lips - he licked his lips - and raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."

"I'll say," Harry breathed.

"Isn't this the part where you ask me what my plan is?" Severus challenged, and Harry was pleased to hear a dryness to that velvet voice. He considered Severus for a long moment, before letting go of him. "Give me one good reason why I should not kill you, Snape."

Bare faced smirk. "Because you do not want to kill me…Harry." He stepped back, hands by his sides, muscles relaxed. "You have the best opportunity now, though. I am unarmed, half undressed and utterly defenceless. I could try to reach your wand but I imagine it would take me seventeen seconds to grab it and you would have more than enough time to incapacitate, maim or indeed kill me in that time. Or." He did not drop Harry's gaze. "You could put your wand down on the floor and we could discuss this situation in a more…leisurely…atmosphere." He placed his hands behind his back. Harry watched him, "You are too dangerous to be kept alive."

"Dangerous for who? Civilisation - or your heart?" Severus half smirked, half smiled. Harry shivered in desire at that simple expression. "What damage can one man do, Harry? You would be here to make sure I did not get up to any…mischief…"

He had turned the tables. Severus had the upper hand and he knew it. Harry glared at him. Severus simply stared back. Why did he have to stand there without his shirt on, so damned enticing? How had Harry even ended up here? In a dark, deserted corridor with Severus Snape and no shirt and their lips were still flushed from their kiss and he could still taste Severus - "You planned this…"

"You realise, now, when it is too late. Wand on the floor, Harry. There is no other way out. I know what you want - and I know what I want - and it isn't my corpse on the floor." He neared Harry like a predator stalking paralysed prey - paralysed Harry - reaching out to prise the wand from unresisting fingers and letting it drop to the ground. Before Harry could even react properly, before his dulled brain that was thinking thoughts only of how Severus was skinny yet his muscles were defined, Severus himself had wrapped arms possessively around the younger man and pulled him close. Too close.

Harry's mouth chose to work without his brain. "Do you have another wand in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"

The spell was broken. Severus laughed. Harry glanced up at him, surprised. "Sev?"

"Really, Harry? Really? 'Wand in your pocket'?" Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts and Muggle cinema aficionado, regarded his lover and partner with bemusement and frustration, "The role play was going so well…"

Harry shrugged, "It just came out…"

"You have that problem consistently, it seems. I think Poppy needs to be informed…" Severus kissed the space where a scar used to lie on Harry's forehead, so many years ago, and smiled affectionately. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Most definitely. I think I prefer you as a master villain to normal. Sexy. Very sexy indeed." Harry replied, ignoring his own flush at the kiss and the question. Severus flicked dark hair back from Harry's eyes, "You play the accidental hero who has more good luck than sense very well, Potter. Anyone would think you had been practicing your entire life…"

"I am going to ignore that. Where were we, Sev?" Harry wrapped arms around Severus' neck, "Has the master villain corrupted and won our hero? What happens next? Will Harry try to escape the spider's web - or is he more keen to see what lies beneath the….silk?"

"Shall we find out?" Severus whispered, "I think you need to ask what my terribly wicked and evil plans are for you - and for my world domination…."

Harry straightened his back, "Unhand me at once, fiend!"

"Shakespeare is next week." Severus tightened his arms, "Well, well, what have we here, then?"

"You asked what I wanted. What I want is to know what your plans are." Harry tangled fingers in black hair and pressed one hand to Severus' chest, "How can I find out this information?"

Severus was more interested in Harry and his clothing. "Do not worry, Mr Potter, I will tell you my plans, considering they involve you."

"I will not co-operate." Harry replied. Severus stopped his exploration of Harry's shirt and glanced at him with a sharp eye, "You shall have very little choice."

"Is that so? I could have company here in ten minutes if I so wished. They wouldn't take you alive." Harry's boast was bold, but the bluff worked. Severus took this into consideration, "Are you challenging me, Potter? Are you giving me ten minutes to change your mind?"

"You read me correctly." Harry answered, ignoring Severus' wandering fingers as best he could, letting them do their work, he was better than this, he was trained, he was…he felt his knees almost give way - where had Severus learned to do that - coupled with the fact the master villain's kisses were searing hot against his neck and throat and Harry was beginning to lose the ability to think - if he had ever possessed - such a thing - at - all… "Severus…"

"Let me tell you, Harry." Too talented tongue. Harry's insides were liquid lava. "My plan is simple. I plan to take you back to my rooms and shag you senseless so you are unable to move tomorrow morning. As such, you will be late to class - and they will have no choice but to fire you and make me Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in your stead - after which I am sure I can achieve world domination if everyone is as easy to win as you - you have gone rather quiet -" He pulled back to look into Harry's dazed dilated and darkened eyes. "Oh. I forget. It's the voice, isn't it?"

"I think…I think…" Harry struggled to get the words out. "I think you should do that, now."

"What?" Severus humoured, "Take over the world?"

"Shag me senseless."

"In my lair?"

"….Any-bloody-where, Severus, just soon…"

"I think I have secured co-operation."

"I think you have secured copulation." Harry returned, and Severus grinned. He picked Harry up into his arms, cradling him close, "I think that makes the villain triumphant."

"Ah." Harry buried his head in Severus' neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of his lover, "I always had a thing for the bad guy…"

* * *

"There is a reason they call me the best in the field, Severus." Harry watched his utterly spent and definitely sated lover lie on the bed in a crumpled heap, one hand flung over his eyes and the other marked from where he had clenched the sheets so tightly. His chest was still rising and falling at a rapid pace and his skin was flushed in various places. Severus had been rendered incapable of speech for about ten minutes now, so Harry simply curled beside him, drawing a pattern over his lover's stomach as he waited for any form of life to return to Severus. He kicked Severus' silk boxers from the bed and looked for the covers to clean - the only mess that Severus allowed in his private rooms - he smirked and looked back to Severus, "Does this mean I win?"

"Eungh."

"Very articulate, Severus." Harry laughed, pressing close. "In all our…what is it….twelve years together…I have never seen you so…" He thought about the word he was trying to find.

"Desirable?" Severus managed, blinking and shaking his head as the world returned to its normal three dimensional self instead of four dimensional with x-ray vision and the galaxies combining where his eyesight used to be. "Because I think that is the word you are searching for."

"Satisfied." Harry interrupted, clambering onto Severus' hips and looking down at him. "Let's go to the cinema again some time, shall we? Not just for the kissing in the back row and the searching for popcorn in each other's lap…"

"That's what that was?" Severus rested hands lightly on Harry's bare thighs. "I thought you were trying to distract me."

"Chance would have been a fine thing, you were too busy focusing on the film. Have something for James Bond do you, Severus?" Harry kissed the corner of Severus' mouth as the other stuttered and attempted to reply with some dignity - "I happen to enjoy the plots and the writing."

"And Roger Moore in a suit."

"Timothy Dalton, if you must know." Severus shot back, grimaced and shook his head, "If we carry on, you will know all my secrets. What sort of master villain would I be then?"

Harry smiled and replied in a murmur, "The very best kind. Mine." He sealed that with a kiss, teasing Severus' tongue with his. Severus relaxed and nodded, finding Harry's hands and holding them, investigating the ring that had bound their lives five years before. "We could make film night a regular tradition."

"Did you have something particular in mind for the first one?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." Severus raised an eyebrow, "Indiana Jones."

Harry's expression was blank, "Who?"

"Indiana Jones?" Severus' tone was just as incredulous, "Harry, he's only the greatest explorer of all time, all these ancient tombs - when I was a child, he was my hero." He grabbed Harry and flipped him onto his back beside him, pinning him to the blankets, "He wears a cowboy hat and he always gets the young, attractive love interest…sound like our sort of film?"

Harry entwined his fingers in Severus' hair and considered this, eyes narrowed. "I think we'd have to be in Egypt for that to work, Severus…" He didn't sound particularly convinced.

Severus leaned very close. He kissed the side of Harry's neck in that place Harry loved the most and felt his lover tremble. With a dark glance toward green eyes that were his and his alone, he moved back up to whisper against Harry's ear, "Did I mention he has a whip….?"


	2. Lists

Making lists was the curse of the Potions Master. Lists were central to his life - lists of ingredients, lists of steps, lists of instructions of methods of properties of elements, so many lists. It was inevitable that he would succumb to the lull of…making lists.

Severus Snape made lists about everything - every conceivable thing. What had to be done today; and on that note, what had to be done tomorrow. Reading lists, brewing lists, recipe lists, purchase lists, financial lists - the list of Severus' lists went on. His scrawling handwriting on yellowing parchment, dotted across the cottage, inside books and pinned to the walls, and inside his bedside drawer.

Yes, his bedside drawer contained some of the most precious lists - made at night, when all was dark bar the single candle - and they were mostly unseen by others' eyes. That was until Harry Potter discovered them, as he was searching for a beloved pair of socks and found something quite else. Lists. About him.

He glanced toward the door, knowing that his partner was out in Diagon Alley, ingredient shopping, and would be far away from home. Did he dare to read…Gryffindor curiosity bettered him as he flicked through the sheaves of parchment - five in total - but there was a particular one that grabbed his attention.

_Things To Love About The Boy Wonder_

Harry knew he shouldn't. He knew it was an invasion of privacy. He knew it was a terrible thing to do. He knew his lover could have secrets too. But. It had his name on it - his nickname, the affectionate nickname Severus kept just for him - surely that meant, in a way, he was entitled to read it? What hurt could it do? How many reasons and things could Severus conjure? Surely Harry was allowed to know?

He was already reading the list.

_Things To Love About The Boy Wonder_

_1. Not his father - not the arrogant, selfish, immature, childish, pathetic, weak, deceitful, bullying albeit stupidly courageous, bastard._

_2. Not his mother either - although he has her eyes. And her common sense. And her ability to see the good in those who are worth nothing. This is turning into a list itself. Focus, Severus._

_3. He can cook - which means I don't have to. Quite the chef, is my Mr Potter. His bacon sandwiches are to die for. In fact, I think I would. If I was dying. Which I am not._

_4. He's tidy. Mostly. Except in the bedroom. Or the living room. Or the kitchen. Or the garden. But he IS tidy in the bathroom. E for exceeds expectations._

_5. He's not terrible at Potions. In fact, he is particularly able. Maybe that is because he has had such a good teacher? I'd trust him to make something to heal me, let's put it that way. My teaching methods are infamous, after all…_

_6. He's a 'cuddler'. I was taught this term in Diagon Alley by some former colleagues who cornered me. A 'cuddler' is someone who is protective and possessive in sleep, wrapping arms and legs around their lover and refusing to let them go. They become a living and breathing blanket. I am certainly not complaining…._

_7. He understands - understands when I need silence, understands when silence is the last thing I need, understands when to leave me be and when to not leave my side. He understands that I like to sleep late, and that Sunday mornings are sacred - and I will **only** be woken by breakfast in bed. He understands that I cannot live without him._

_8. He sees worth in me. He sees something worth fighting for, something worth living with, something to believe in. He sees me._

_9. I love him. I love him for what he used to be, how he changed, what he stood up for, how he let me fall in love with him and in return fell in love with me, and I love him because I know he and I are more than just a dream._

_10. He's a Gryffindor and -_

The list came to an abrupt halt. Harry frowned. "And? And what?" He turned the parchment over. "I'm a Gryffindor - what does that mean?"

"It means I can rely on you to be overcome with curiosity and to look through my personal belongings…" A voice from behind him. Harry sat straighter, turning to look at his partner with the incriminating evidence in his hands. Not to mention the flushed cheeks and tearing eyes. "I..Severus…"

Severus was leaning on the doorframe, arms folded over his travelling cloak, wearing a trademark triumphant smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Yes, love?"

"You wrote a list…of the things…you love about me…" Harry managed. Severus took a step forward, observing Harry through guarded black eyes, "Not quite correct. I have not written a list."

That was too deep for Harry. He stood, hand shaking, "You…you didn't write this?"

Severus gathered Harry into his arms, "I have written an _incomplete_ list."

"There's more?"

"So much more," Severus nodded, resting his chin against Harry's hair.

"Tell me."

"I'd rather…" Severus paused. "Show you…"


	3. Amortentia

There were two noises that could make Severus Snape jump to his feet and spring into action. One was a screaming child. That was from years of being a teacher and always watching for his students. The other was the explosion of a cauldron and the contents within.

_Especially_ when he was in the kitchen, attempting to make casserole - and he was _not in his laboratory_ so that meant…he dropped the stirrer into the casserole dish and headed instantly for the door blocking the cellar laboratory from the rest of the house, wand drawn - wrenching the door open, met with billowing smoke and choked lungs - and above all that, he managed to shout, "Harry?"

No answer. Mild panic.

"Harry?" He waved his wand to dispel the smoke as best he could, ignoring the fact his stomach had flipped uncomfortably and his heart was beating a little too fast. "Love?"

Still no answer. Mature panic.

"Harry!" Muttered, "Answer me, damn it." He examined the remnants of a shattered cauldron and the terrible acidic smell infiltrating his nostrils as he stepped behind the bench, looked down on the ground and attempted to see…

"Harry." He knelt beside his collapsed lover with urgency that was surpassed only by necessity. "My love…"

The-Boy-Who-Had-Never-Understood-The-Subtle-Science-That-Was-Potions-Making lay in a collapsed heap, glasses knocked away and robes stained and dusty. Severus stroked a hand through dark hair and leaned close, "Are you still breathing? Because taking you to St Mungo's would greatly inconvenience my casserole."

Coughing spluttering moaning groaning laughter.

Ah.

"What was it this time?"

The pile of robes and limbs that had claimed Severus' heart stirred and attempted to sit up. Severus decided now would be the time to seem like a merciful lover as he put arms gently around Harry and helped, pulling him into what could be a cradling embrace. Harry immediately responded to this close proximity, but his green eyes were dazed and blood was trickling down his forehead. This posed more of a problem. Severus brandished a white handkerchief and gently wiped the blood away, frowning protectively at his lover, "What happened?"

"Don't know." Harry managed, slumping against Severus. "Nothing. Ruined."

"What were you trying to make?"

"Nothing." Harry answered again, closing his eyes and feigning sleep. Severus breathed in the scent of his acting curiously Harry, smiling softly. "Perhaps bath and a bed might help, my love?"

"I know what will help." Harry replied, and even without glasses those green eyes caught Severus' black with startling accuracy. "A kiss."

"Really, now? A kiss?"

"They are said to have healing properties, Severus…"

"Who says that? I have never heard that. Are you making this up, Potter, as a ploy to kiss you? Because I can tell you now, I am not so easily fooled…"

Green eyes sparkled. "My head hurts, and I feel very sick…"

"…" Damn.

"Please, Severus? One kiss?"

Damn it all to hell.

Then again. He never did grow tired of the feel and taste of Harry's lips against his - nor how well they fitted together - nor how it felt to be loved and wanted and needed…

"Told you so. Healing properties."

"Indeed. You sound much healthier. I can go back to my casserole…"

"Wait, wait. You said a bath. Come with me."

"Yes. You. I never mentioned me…"

"That's not fair. I might fall over and hurt myself again. I could be concussed, Severus."

"You will be in a minute…"

"Put me down!"

"I thought we were heading for a bath?"

"…Oh. Yes."

* * *

Harry was sound asleep. Severus was not. He was cleaning his laboratory. He wasn't entirely sure why he let the Boy Who Lived in here, anyway. He always made a mess. Maybe it was the faith he had that one day, Harry might actually brew something successfully without Severus'…encouragement. Or maybe he just enjoyed seeing the other fail miserably so he could rub it in.

A voice in his ear mocked, _like the oil you just spent an hour happily rubbing in?_

He ignored it. Funny, though, how Harry's scent - pine and peppermint - lingered long after he had retired.

Oh.

Well.

Amorentia was particularly hard to brew. Maybe Severus would let Harry off, just this once…


	4. Across the Stars

"There, see. Wrapped up warm." His fingers moved away from the soft material, which was being regarded by dark eyes with disdain. "It is the wrong colour."

Harry fought the urge to laugh as he stepped back and observed his Severus in black robes, black boots, black travelling cloak, black gloves and a brilliant red and and gold knitted scarf. He couldn't hide the smile as Severus examined it, clearly considered removing it, and then simply let it go. "It will do, I suppose." Those eyes - oh, _those eyes_ - surveyed him, "You suit silver and green, Potter." And how Harry practically beamed at that compliment. He hid his flush by tucking his arm through Severus' and opening the door. "All set for our moonlit walk, Professor Snape?"

"It was my idea."

"And you promise not to search for Potions ingredients, and run off the darkness?" Harry's tone had gained an edge. Severus played innocent, "Pardon? That does not sound like me."

"Severus! Last time, that butterfly was nearly the end of you - you remember the cliff, surely?"

"That butterfly was incredibly valuable, if you must know, Potter. And I would have caught it too if it hadn't been for the pesky Boy-Who-Lived playing the hero and -"

"Stopping you from falling to your death? Next time, I'll just let you go…" Their bickering was second nature to them now - their tones were light hearted and humorous as they walked together along the seaside path, darkness having descended a mere hour before. The air was crisp and biting, refreshing and relieving, and the warmth of Severus' arm comforted his fingers. He was glad of his Slytherin scarf, matching each footstep with his lover's and enjoying the simple, quiet things in life. The walks, the breakfasts, the dinners, the nights spent reading - the little and oh so simple things that had become the cornerstone of their relationship - truly perfect. He smiled despite himself as silence fell between them, not needing to break it, content only to listen to Severus' breathing and their boots crunching against the stones.

He glanced toward the sky, and knew Severus was doing the same. "Do you believe in fate, Severus?"

His once Potions professor and now lover looked at him in the dim moonlight. "Pardon?"

"Fate? Paths meant to join? Do you believe in it?"

Severus did not answer immediately. When he did, it wasn't what Harry was expecting. "Do you believe in fate, Mr Potter?"

"Yes." Harry's response was instantaneous to contrast with his lover and most certainly heartfelt, "Things are meant to happen in the order they do - and in the end - they work out for the best. I am sure of it." He looked to Severus, "But you didn't answer? Do you believe in fate? Love, written in the stars? Like Romeo and Juliet - you remember when you read that to me - like them, Severus? Star crossed?"

They had reached a steep curve in the path. Severus stopped, unlinked his arm from Harry's and stood closer to the edge of the cliff. Harry waited only a moment before joining him - not touching him - just wondering what was in the other's mind. And then he saw what Severus was staring at.

A royal blue canvas, speckled and scattered with glittering perfections. The sea, waves of black and teeming with life, rose up to meet the sky in a line of convergence and acceptance. Patterns could be drawn in the sky, patterns of stars and galaxies - infinity itself - stretching out before them. Harry felt his breath stolen away - and he almost missed the moment where Severus wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him impossibly close. There was a moment when they stared at each other, and Harry found more worth seeing in those eyes than he did in the heavens above them,

"Yes, Mr Potter. I believe in fate." Severus breathed. Harry forgot how to. "Just without the tragic ending."

* * *

_Kudos to anyone who knows the piece of music this was written to. I must inform my readers that due to a change in my circumstances, I will not be running this as an advent calendar - but it will stay a collection of random one shots. Your support means the world to me. Best wishes, The Half Mad Muggle._


End file.
